


Ordinary Love

by ClaraxBarton



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fail sex, M/M, Sex Toys, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 14:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18209318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/pseuds/ClaraxBarton
Summary: Clint and Bucky are sent on a routine op to suburban New Jersey. Clint decides to spice things up. Clint fails.





	Ordinary Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kangofu_CB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangofu_CB/gifts).



> As always, thanks to Ro for making the things so so much better. And to CB for all the things and all the reasons.
> 
> Also, this is for CB, who has a four day hell rotation this weekend, and has to put up with me sending random texts and ideas to her at all hours.  
> \---  
> \---  
> \---

Clint didn’t have any  _ complaints _ about the mission - it was a standard surveillance and sabotage op - and he didn’t have any complaints about personnel - partnering with Bucky was totally fine with Clint - but, well, the op was in New Jersey. While Clint didn’t share the all-encompassing disgust that Steve and Bucky felt for the state, it wasn’t at the top of his list of ‘places to visit’. It ranked somewhere above South Dakota and somewhere below Montana. 

 

Once you got past Newark and Trenton, the state wasn’t, on the whole,  _ hideous _ . Clint could even see places where, theoretically, people could plant gardens. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he understood why it was called the  _ Garden State _ , but sure. Green shit could grow in New Jersey.

 

In fact, once you got way past Newark and Trenton, New Jersey was farmland. Rolling hills and silos and rows of corn, and it wasn’t quite like Iowa, but it was something. Something like Iowa, and it sparked an unwelcome feeling of nostalgia in Clint’s belly.

 

So, on the whole, he kinda just wanted to be done with this op and back in Manhattan.

 

But they would be here, in the wilds of mid-north New Jersey, for at least a few days. Which meant stocking up on supplies.

 

Bucky flat-out refused to be the one who ventured into suburbia, so Clint found himself walking into a Target on Thursday afternoon and kind of feeling like he was in an alternate dimension.

 

Kids. Families. Civilians. All over the place.

 

He’d been in a Target before… maybe? He was pretty sure he’d been in at least one, out in LA, when he’d lost his suitcase and had to buy new clothes because apparently he couldn’t just walk around in tac gear while casing Disneyland. According to Phil Coulson, who was the opposite of an expert on blending in.

 

Clint steeled himself, wrestled a red cart free, avoided running over three toddlers running in front of him, and steered quickly for the opposite end of the store.

 

Bucky had given him a list that basically boiled down to food, first aid, towels, and shitty reading material.

 

He got some bodice rippers for Bucky - half in jest, half in earnest (which Clint was pretty sure was exactly how Bucky felt about them too), picked up a few bath sheets - because Bucky wasn’t particular about much, but Clint had never met someone who hated hotel sandpaper-towels quite as much or as vocally as Bucky did - bottles of water, bags of jerky and dried fruit and a bunch of frozen meals, band-aids, Bucky’s shampoo and conditioner, Clint’s body wash, lube and condoms, and-

 

Clint tossed the weird organic lube that Bucky had decided to prefer these days into the cart and looked back at the shelf again.

 

Huh.

 

Since when did Target start carrying vibrators and cock rings?

 

Clint had a weird moment. He wondered if maybe he was dreaming, or hallucinating, but before he could start to panic, some lady bumped into him while reaching for a pregnancy test. So. Okay. It was real.

 

Middle America - or, at least, Middle New Jersey - was ready for mass marketing vibrators and cock rings. That was good. Hell, that was  _ cool _ . When Clint had been growing up and fooling around, it had been hard enough just to get  _ condoms, _ and now- 

 

Now, he had to make sure to get the organic lube Bucky wanted and-

 

And, now that Clint thought about it, had Bucky even ever  _ used _ a vibrator or a cock ring?

 

As a general rule, their sex was on the vanilla side - too much shit in both their backgrounds to do more than some hair-pulling and spanking. The most adventurous they ever got when they fucked was in their location, and that was adventurous enough that most of the team had walked in on Clint and Bucky in one place or another.

 

But  _ toys _ …

 

Clint didn’t let himself think too much about it. He grabbed the vibrator and ‘vibrating pleasure ring’, and tossed them into the cart as well.

 

In the checkout line, a toddler sat in the cart in front of Clint and stared at him with so much solemnity Clint started to wonder if the kid was actually plotting world domination. Behind Clint was a very tired-looking woman and half a baseball team’s worth of kids, all loud, all begging for snacks or toys. The woman at the register was old, grandmother old, and slow.

 

None of it bothered Clint, because it wasn’t having his brain controlled by an alien or having to dodge explosions, but then the grandmother started to scan  _ his _ stuff and the kids behind him bumped into his cart and- and Clint stacked lube, condoms, towels, a vibrator and a cock ring on the conveyor.

 

Grandmother raised both eyebrows, but didn’t comment.

 

Clint’s face felt hot, and he chanced a look over his shoulder to see that the exhausted mom was looking at his stack of supplies with… longing? Envy? Something that wasn’t judgement.

 

Thankfully, the kids were distracted over fighting for a bag of chips.

 

Clint practically fled the scene, but even so, he still felt like he was blushing when he got back to the extended-stay hotel that he and Bucky were holed up in for the duration of their op.

 

Bucky greeted him with a soft smirk, but didn’t rise from the battered desk where he was sitting and reviewing video footage of their target.

 

Clint busied himself putting away the supplies, dropping the trashy romance novels into Bucky’s lap and bending down to kiss his forehead while he was close by, and then realized he still had a bag of… supplies that he wasn’t sure where to store.

 

Bucky knew him too well, and looked from the bag to Clint’s face and then back to the bag.

 

“Whatcha got there, sweetheart?” he asked, all Brooklyn drawl and laughing eyes.

 

And because Clint was a trained assassin and spy, with over a dozen years of experience, at the top of his game, he didn’t just dump the bag all over the bed and point at his haul. Nor did he stammer through an explanation while blushing like a teenager caught with a porno mag.

 

Because he was both an adult and a  _ world-renown _ operative, Clint dropped the bag into Bucky’s lap and let him figure it out on his own.

 

The lube and condoms elicited nothing more than a low hum of approval.

 

But then Bucky pulled out the box containing the vibrator and frowned at it.

 

“So, you know how we’ve got the whole… intro to the 21st century independent study course going?” Clint asked.

 

Bucky shot him a look.

 

“You mean how you and Sam keep thinking of shit I’ve gotta try, and you  _ torture _ me with pointless bullshit in the name of introducing me to the future.”

 

“I think  _ torture _ is kinda stretching it just a little bit. We-”

 

“Ruby Tuesday in Times Square.”

 

Which - fair. Bucky had him there. Plus, that had been Sam’s idea, because Sam was a mean fucker, and honestly, they had  _ all _ been tortured by that one.

 

“Okay, but this isn’t like that. This - this is totally different.”

 

Bucky plucked the other box from the bag.

 

“I’ll say,” Bucky agreed. He looked from the boxes in his hands to Clint. “What’d you have in mind?”

 

Clint forced himself to give a casual shrug.

 

“Figured sex toys might be something we could try.”

 

“I picked up on that, on account of you buying them and throwing them at me.”

 

“I didn’t  _ throw  _ them at you. I casually tossed the bag onto your lap.”

 

Bucky nodded amiably, as if Clint had actually agreed with him.

 

Clint rolled his eyes.

 

“These for me or you?” Bucky asked, maybe thinking he was clarifying his question.

 

Clint had to grin when Bucky realized that he hadn’t actually cleared up anything at all.

 

“Up to you, babe. Want me to fuck you with the vibe while you’re wearing the cock ring or-”

 

“Yeah,” Bucky answered, not even letting Clint get to option two. Which, fair. Fine. Clint was on-board with that. Clint was, as a general rule, on-board with just about anything that involved Bucky and fucking.

 

Bucky more or less tackled Clint onto the bed, and they wrestled with each other just as much as with their clothes as they tried to strip and kiss each other at the same time. Clint almost fell off the bed when Bucky grabbed him by the hips and jerked down his jeans, and Clint elbowed Bucky in the face while he was peeling off Bucky’s briefs, but they eventually got naked.

 

And then they kind of lost track of their goal, the familiar press of skin and metal, of hard muscle and lean curves, raised scars and whorled divots of missing pieces, distracted them both.

 

It was at once routine and brand new every time Clint got to touch Bucky, every time he was able to coax pleasure out of him, every time they burrowed into each other and forgot that anything had ever existed but them and this.

 

Bucky kissed like an asshole - by turns demanding and controlling and then teasing, pulling back and refusing to give Clint what he desperately needed, until Clint pulled him in or was far enough gone to actually  _ ask _ for it.

 

Clint was pretty sure that  _ he _ kissed like a drowning man, desperate for every bit of oxygen he could coax from Bucky’s mouth, or maybe like a man dying of thirst, kissing and licking his way over Bucky’s flesh in a desperate attempt to stay alive.

 

It wasn’t until Clint had Bucky’s cock in his mouth that he remembered the cock ring. And the vibrator. And the whole reason they were even doing this  _ now _ , in the middle of the afternoon, five hours before they had to suit up and scope out their target.

 

Regretfully, he pulled away from Bucky, whose sexy murder glare turned a bit more murder than sexy when Clint rolled off the bed and grabbed the supplies from the table.

 

When he rejoined Bucky on the bed, the other man looked less homicidal. When Clint struggled to get the cock ring onto Bucky, they both laughed, and then groaned because the vibrating feature was  _ really _ nice and Clint wondered if he could just rut against Bucky and the vibrating ring to get off. Maybe some other time. Clint enjoyed that for a while, Bucky shuddering under him as they both adjusted to the vibrations, and Bucky seemed to vacillate between hating the constriction around the base of his cock and enjoying it. Clint let him adjust to it while he fingered Bucky open, taking his time, grinning when Bucky arched into his hand and then groaned and humped against the air in a desperate attempt for friction.

 

When Clint slicked up the rather small, but appealingly purple vibrator, Bucky actually smirked. The smirk fell away as Clint eased it inside Bucky’s body. Bucky moaned when Clint flipped through the settings, all three of them, to see just what the little vibrator was capable of.

 

_ The little vibe that could _ , Clint thought, snickering and then failing to put on a straight face when Bucky glared at him.

 

Clint put the vibe on the pulse setting and sat back on his knees to enjoy the sight of Bucky struggling with the multi-frontal assault.

 

It was a pretty good view, and it seemed kind of natural to jerk himself off while he played with the vibrator, pushing it into Bucky and leisurely pulling it back out and then pushing it in again, until Bucky was shuddering and glaring at him.

 

On the whole, operation Cheap Sex Toys was working out really well. Right up until Bucky groaned a very  _ not _ sexy groan and curled up into a fetal position.

 

“What-”

 

But Bucky was tugging at the cock ring, muttering in Russian, fingers scrambling desperately.

 

Clint managed to pull the ring off, and Bucky sucked in a deep breath.

 

“Babe?”

 

“Too tight. Too small,” Bucky grunted, still taking in deep breaths.

 

Clint looked between the cock ring and Bucky’s cock. And, well… maybe a ‘one size fits all’ cheap plastic cock ring wasn’t the way to go, after all.

 

“Want me to kiss it better?” he asked.

 

Bucky snorted, but he rolled over onto his back and spread his legs wide.

 

Clint settled between them and gave the base of Bucky’s cock an apologetic lick.

 

Bucky sighed and settled his fingers in Clint’s hair, half-petting, half-pulling.

 

Clint held up the vibrator.

 

Bucky shook his head in the negative.

 

“Call me old-fashioned,” Bucky said as he lazily thrust his hips up and forced his cock deeper into Clint’s mouth, “but I don’t see anything wrong with your mouth on my dick and your fingers in my ass.”

 

And, well, Clint couldn’t think of any argument to counter that, so he slicked up his fingers and gave Bucky exactly what he wanted.

 

-o-

 


End file.
